Crash and Burn (24 page)

“But that’s not what happened.”

He nodded. “Whoever did this got burned when Chollo’s cousin walked into it. Now Chollo’s bankrolling this thing and his little cousin has the best defense attorney in Los Angeles and he’s leaving no stone unturned.”

“And Nguyen? Why would he lie about what he saw?”

“Why would anyone? Money. Or maybe he’s being threatened.”

Krista sighed and looked around the restaurant. The customers had dwindled to a few tipsy couples who’d stopped in on their way home from bars.

“Which brings us to the question I’ve been hammering at for days now,” she said. “Who was this doctor and who wanted him dead? It’s bound to be the same person after Lily.”

R.J. forked up some sausage. “Lemme know when you figure it out.”

“We’re not partners on this.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I mean it.”

They eyed each other across the table.

“You know a lot about this case,” she said. “I take it you’re Walker’s lead investigator?”

He nodded.

“Then I guess you know about the life insurance?”

“Two mil,” he said. “All to the wife.”

“I assume you checked her out?”

He shoved his plate away. “Everyone did. She’s clean. There were some rumors maybe she was having an affair, but we couldn’t nail it down. And she does a good grieving widow.”

“You think she’s phony?”

He smiled. “This is L.A. Everyone’s phony.”

“You know what I mean. That’s a lot of money.”

“Not necessarily for a doctor. A jury’s going to have to see some cold hard facts to buy into that.”

“The widow isn’t on trial here. Saurez is.”

“Yeah, but Walker can’t win this case without a fall guy,” he said. “A doctor gets his face shot off, someone’s gotta pay. Hard for the jury to acquit one suspect without someone better waiting in the wings.” He winked at her. “Jury Psychology 101.”

Krista folded her arms, irritated now. “If you’re Walker’s lead investigator, why were you in Hawaii when the trial started?”

“Personal reasons.”

His face looked blank. She couldn’t read a damn thing into that, and she didn’t think she wanted to. She knew zilch about R.J.’s personal life, and she should keep it that way.

She watched him, still distrustful. He was holding out on her. She could feel it in her bones.

He stretched an arm over the back of the booth. “I hear the lead dick on this case used to be LAPD. Name’s Kevin O’Quinn.”

And there it was, finally. The reason he’d been dogging her for two straight days. Probably the reason Walker had hired her in the first place. Krista had heard about the LAPD connection, but didn’t think much of it.

“So?” she asked.

“So any chance you can make a few calls? See what the cops have on this phantom boyfriend?”

He wanted Krista to call in a favor, but she’d never even met O’Quinn. Her career with LAPD had been a little short-lived.

“You mean ask someone to sneak me the case file so you can hand Walker his fall guy?”

He held her gaze.

“And while you’re at it, maybe you can grab my witness out from under me and snag my fee?”

“Our fee.”

She leaned forward on her elbows. “Do you have a brain disorder? How many times do I have to say it? I’m
not
—”

“—partnering with you. Yeah, I heard you.” The smug smile was back. “You’ll come around.”

Krista braced herself for the familiar rush of annoyance, but it didn’t come. She was too worn out to feel anything.

She looked at her watch. “We should go.”

The drive back was silent as they wended through the streets. Her eyes felt gritty. The hollow feeling in her chest was back, deepening like a sinkhole. Krista stared out at the darkened houses, where people slept peacefully. In a few short hours, they’d be getting up and starting the day. She pictured a flushed-cheeked young woman in go-go boots, locking her apartment and rushing off to work. So much life ahead of her. So many dreams unrealized, including ones she hadn’t even had yet. Amber Sandusky. Amber
Swift
. So hopeful and clueless and determined, all at the same time.

“Why Amber?” Krista muttered.

R.J. glanced at her. “Maybe it was an accident.”

“With a silencer?”

“Could have been a mistake. She and Lily don’t look all that different, especially in the waitress getup. And they drive similar red cars.”

Krista had thought about it. She wasn’t convinced, though. A silencer on the gun suggested a pro, and she couldn’t imagine a pro making such a colossal mistake.

R.J. rolled to a stop in front of her house. Krista eyed the dark windows and stifled a shudder.

“Thanks for the coffee.” She looked at him, but he was already getting out of the car. Without a word, he slipped his pistol from under his jacket and circled her property. She stood awkwardly on the front stoop, looking up and down her quiet street until he came up the sidewalk, tucking his gun away.

“Want me to check inside?” he asked.

“I can handle it.”

“You sure?”

“I was a cop, for Christ’s sake.”

He stared down at her and she felt her chest tighten. She was exhausted. Filthy. And her nerves were raw. Usually, she had much more bravado, but it was gone now. It had drained out of her on Lily’s driveway.

He was still watching her with those deep blue eyes.

“Fine.” She huffed out a breath and unlocked the door. “Knock yourself out.”

He slipped past her, and she stayed by the door, kicking off her shoes. She remembered the way he’d looked at her at Lily’s, the way his breath had felt against her temple. She imagined him looking through her bedroom now, and she forced herself to stay put.

He returned to the living room as she switched on a lamp.

“All clear.” He stopped in front of her. “Looks like you’re good tonight.”

He gazed down at her. She read his look and heat shot through her as he bent his head down and kissed her. His mouth was gentle, which surprised her. He coaxed her lips apart. Then his fingers slipped up into her hair and he moved in and everything changed in a heartbeat, from soft and gentle to molten-hot, a thousand times hotter than she’d imagined it. And then her fingers were in
his
hair, and she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. His chest was a solid wall and she felt the rasp of stubble on his chin as he changed the angle of the kiss. He pulled her flush against him and lust speared through her. She imagined pulling him down onto her sofa. She imagined tearing off his clothes and doing what she’d fantasized about. And she imagined waking up naked and alone.

She jerked back, breathing hard.

“Damn.” He looked down at her with a heavy-lidded gaze.

“What was that?”

Instead of answering, he pulled her against him and went after her mouth again. He kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. His mouth was hot and she loved the way he smelled… and she could not, not,
not
do this tonight.

She pulled away, heart thudding, cheeks hot. Her chest felt tight with panic.

Finally, he eased back, giving her space, and rested his hand on her shoulder as she watched him warily.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“No.”

He sighed and dropped his hand. “See you tomorrow, Hart.”

“We’re not partners.”

He shook his head and walked out her door.

Chapter Seven

Krista slept in ten-minute snippets and got up feeling like she’d gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson. Her shoulders ached. Her head pounded. Even her jaw hurt, probably from clenching her teeth throughout much of the night.

“Give us a kiss! Give us a kiss!”

Spencer flapped over and stared down at her. She’d spent the night on the sofa because she preferred the rustle of feathers to the lonely silence of her bedroom.

Yes, she was pathetic.

She fed some cashews through the mesh and stroked Spence’s beak. “Pretty bird, aren’t you? That’s right.”

He lifted his wings, showing off his plumage. “Pretty bird! Pretty bird!”

He could have been an actor.

Krista shuffled to the bathroom, where she climbed into a scalding shower and scrubbed with a loofah until her skin was pink. She dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and started to put on her holster before she remembered about her gun.

“Shit.”

She tossed a defense spray into her purse and hit the door. Almost eight, which meant four hours and counting. Today’s objective: get her witness to the courthouse by noon and get her paycheck by close of business.

No problem.

Krista swung by Starbucks and then headed for the office, where she hoped to find Scarlet. She called Detective McMillan while she drove.

“Where are you?” he asked tersely. “It’s after eight.”

“On my way,” she said. “Just wanted to see if there were any new developments.”

Silence.

“Detective?”

“Did I miss something?” he demanded. “Last I checked you were a person of interest in this case, not an investigator.”

Okay, so he didn’t feel like sharing. It was going to be one of those mornings.

“Guess that means ballistics isn’t back yet.”

He scoffed.

“Well, I had something to pass along,” she said, “maybe speed things up a little. You got a pen?”

“What is it?”

“Lilian Daniels’s credit card info. I’m sure you noticed that paperwork on the floor and you’re probably running it already.”

She could almost hear his brain working as he tried to remember the files scattered across the bedroom. The place had been a wreck, and it would take days for detectives to sort through the relevant information. And since Lily wasn’t the victim—yet—today’s focus would be on Amber Sandusky.

“Let me save you some time, all right, Dan? You’re trying to find Lilian. So am I. She has a credit card and a gas card, and I’ve got numbers for both.” Krista rattled them off and pictured McMillan scribbling in his memo book. “You should run these right away and see if either’s been used lately, say in the past five days since she was last seen? It might give you a bead on her.”

Silence.

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t try and work our case for us, Hart. You’re not on the job anymore.”

“Fine, do it yourself.”

“I will.”

“Great. I’ll be sure and keep you on speed dial so you can talk to this witness as soon as I find her.”

She hung up. She maneuvered through a traffic snarl, checking her mirrors. No tail today, but she’d have to keep her eyes open. She called Joe and he sounded almost as cranky as she did.

“I just checked,” he said. “No hits on your red Kia.”

“Actually, I found the car.”

“Hey, thanks for the heads up.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ve got a Jane Doe for you, though.”

Krista’s blood went cold.

“Caucasian female, five-ten, one-forty. Sounds just like your missing person, but this one’s brunette.”

She held her breath.

“Krista? Didn’t you say yours was blond?”

“She might have died her hair recently.
Shit.
When did this come in?”

“Yesterday, around ten p.m. She was in an alley behind a restaurant in Hollywood, no purse, no ID. They did the post this morning. Gunshot wound to the forehead.”

Krista’s chest tightened. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Got a distinguishing tattoo, if that helps. Green and blue butterfly just above her right breast. That sound like your girl?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, lemme know if you want to come down. I can probably get you in there if you need a visual.”

“Thanks.”

Krista clicked off and gripped the wheel. Her heart thudded. The car felt airless, so she buzzed down the window and let in some exhaust fumes.

She pounded the steering wheel. Then she cut across a few lanes of traffic and made a U-turn. Ten minutes later, she was at Travis Sloan’s door.

This time a girl answered. Tousled brown hair, Hollister T-shirt, red bikini panties.

“Who are you?”

Krista shouldered past her. “Travis?”

He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his waist. “What the hell?”

“Did you talk to Lily last night?”

Deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Did you talk to her?”

“What? No.” His gaze darted to the girl.

“Don’t fuck with me, Travis. I’m not in the mood.”

“I didn’t talk to her. I swear.”

Krista got up in his face and she could tell he was lying.

“What?” he yelped. “I haven’t seen her. She emailed me last night, but—”

“When?”

“Right after you left.”

“Why?”

Another look at the girl. She was standing in the hallway now with her hand on her hip. “Who the fuck
are
you, anyway?”

Krista ignored her and looked at Travis. “Why did she email you? Where was she?”

“I don’t know. She asked about her car. I said I might know someone who’d buy it, but that fell through, so.”

“What time was this? I need the exact time.”

He walked into the living room and grabbed the iPhone off the coffee table that was littered with beer bottles. “Looks like… seven-fifty-two. Right after you left.”

“Forward me that email.”

He looked blank. He didn’t have her address. She plucked the phone from his hand and did it herself.

“Why didn’t you tell her to call me?” Krista asked.

“I did.”

She checked his Outbox and saw the message: Sorry no leads on the car. Some detective lady’s looking for you FYI.

Great. Very persuasive. At least he’d included a phone number. She handed back the phone.

“Listen to me, Travis. This is very important. Does Lily have a tattoo? A butterfly just above her right breast?”

“Above her breast? No.”

“She have a butterfly anywhere?”

“No.”

“Travis! Who the fuck
is
this woman?” The girl actually stomped her foot.

“Travis, look at me. Are you
sure
she doesn’t have a butterfly tattoo?”

“No. She’s got, like, a flower or something. On her ankle.”